Stumbling In The Dark
by tidbit2008
Summary: This is the part that cuts her the deepest. MH.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my inspiration.  
**AN:** Set around 5 or 6 years pre-show. Thanks to Mandy and Jo for betaing. Don't forget to review! ;)

* * *

They were broken up. Really. They were. They _are_.

First, there was the big scene in the foyer after the dinner for the person who retired. Not that she remembers half of it because of course there was the bar and the tequila afterward. However, the reporters were more than happy to fill in all the gory, juicy details of it in the days and weeks that followed. And it would not have been complete without the usual snide comments about her religion and his..._unreligion_? Is that even a word? But, then again, at this point, it doesn't really matter, right? Because they're _over_.

Not even just because of the scene. There was the talk. With them there is_ always_ the talk. The one where he picks apart her values, the church and the irony of it all. She calls him a self-absorbed arsine pig and brings up all his insecurities and inability to commit to anyone other than Danny. And there's Danny. There's always Danny. She loves the man but she does not love the third person in the relationship. Matt can't function without Danny, so she is just supposed to deal with the fact that if it came down to it, Matt would choose Danny over her. She knows this and she accepts and deals with it because she loves... because she loves him. But that's not important (only it is), back to the talk. The talk. God. The talk where they fling insults at each other like bullets and neither remembers to wear their bulletproof vests. She always winds up crying. He always wipes the tears away and makes her laugh because that's what he's best at, making her laugh. Then they agree that _this_ time, _this_ time it really is over. _Really_.

And yet even after all of that, here she is again, dressing quietly in the dark so they can skip the awkward talk. Instead they'll save it for the studio the day after tomorrow when they've both had time to go over what they'll say and do and how it'll all be okay (even though it's not, and it hurts and she'll cry as soon as he leaves her dressing room). It has to be okay because they work together, they're a team professionally even when they're not personally. Where is her head? What's happened to her? When did she become this, this masochist who lets an impossible relationship turn into such a cycle of on again off again heartache? Who reads the play over and over again when they know that in the end the prince rides off into the sunset with the wizard and the heroine is left to pick up the pieces? She's the girl with all the answers about death and the hereafter but she can't even peg life on earth somewhere in the ballpark.

Here she is, buttoning up her shirt on the edge of the bed of the man who stole her heart and won't give it back. Last night she let the bad week, the beers and the sound of his voice in her ear sway her into giving into desire. Into ignoring the little voice in her head telling her his sweet kisses would bitter in the early morning light. She could lie and say she just needed a soft place to fall for a few hours. It's not like they don't have a history, or that it's not understandable to turn to an old flame in trying times. She can't, though, because Matt's never been just a flame and it would romanticize their (hell of a) history. The one where they love each other passionately and to distraction until the contest of who can hurt each other most comes to life. That's when they begin to tear each other apart until there is nothing left to do but have really great break-up sex. They go to their respective corners and lick their wounds for a few months, maybe even a year, before being drawn together and starting the cycle all over again.

There's all of that hurt, anger and resentment and yet this part of it is the one that cuts her the deepest. The quiet affair they have in between (sometimes even during) relationships when he holds her for a night without complications and she dreams of them being like this every night only to awake in the morning with a hangover of both the alcoholic and heartache variety. At the end of the day, she loves him more than she ever dreamt it humanly possible to love another person. One would think that would be enough and yet she's picking up her purse and looking longingly to the man still asleep halfway under the covers with his hair a mess and his mouth open just enough to be cute. He's beautiful and insane and she knows she'll never love anyone else like she loves the fool. Which is why she'll always come back even though she knows that there is a good possibility he'll only break her fractured heart all over again.

One day they're bound to get lucky and make it work, right?

_ fin._


End file.
